


Murphy's Law

by MrBenzedrine89



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Feel-good, Fluff, Funny, Humor, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-17 07:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9310493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrBenzedrine89/pseuds/MrBenzedrine89
Summary: Writing prompt: Murphy's law. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Draco Malfoy learns this first hand as he attempts to court Hermione Granger. Birthday gift for LightofEvolution. 3 chapters of feel good laughter. Complete.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lightofevolution](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lightofevolution).



**This started off as a birthday one-shot for LightofEvolution, but it ended up becoming a 3 part story.  
Hope you like!**

**Writing prompt: Murphy's law.**   
**Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.**   
**Draco Malfoy learns this first hand as he attempts to court Hermione Granger.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and I won't make a profit from this story.**

 

****

* * *

**First Encounter** :

The first time he saw her again, it was years after the war. Five years, to be exact. She stood there, next to the fountain in the middle of Hogsmeade, failing to pass out pamphlets to floundering Hogwarts children who simply wanted to be left alone on their weekend away from the castle.

"The S.P.E.W. needs you!" she shouted, mercilessly (or more ferociously) targeting a gaggle of Hufflepuff boys attempting to make their way to Honeydukes. "With the newly constructed ordinances enforcing magical unity, now is the best time to get involved in the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare! It's up to all of us to- if you'd just stop for a moment- oh, how rude!" she exclaimed as a girl dressed in Slytherin colors gave her the bird as she walked by.

He couldn't help it; Draco Malfoy laughed into his palm, leaning against a shop window to watch the spectacle. Traveling abroad to avoid the public eye had left him with a fresh outlook on life, as well as less of a chip on his shoulder. He'd been to France, Germany, Egypt and America. He'd seen his fair share (and done quite a bit more), but there was nothing like coming home to see things, remarkably, hadn't changed all too much. At least, not when it came to Hermione Granger and her insufferable need to stick her nose in other people's agendas while forcing her own views down others' throats.

Even her hair hadn't changed, nor the freckles along the bridge of her nose. She wasn't particularly curvy; really, a plain Jane in nearly every way. But the determined look etched across her brow stirred something inside the blond he hadn't felt since his days after the battle of Hogwarts: a sense of wanting to be _that_. Average. Ordinary. To have everyone walk past him without a second glance. The young Draco would never have felt that way, but the older, more experienced Draco knew better. Fame wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and infamy even more so. He wondered if, just maybe, Granger would still react the way she once did to him, full of bitterness and haughty justice.

He decided to act.

Draco shoved his hands into his cloak pockets and started toward the fountain, excitement building within him. He wasn't sure why he wanted to be degraded -maybe it was because, after all the pretenses, he wanted to know someone still looked at him like a human being and not just some crummy Death Eater. His shoes clacked across the stone sidewalk as he weaved through the crowd on his mission, eyes never once leaving the witch, though she paid him no interest. She was too busy shoving pamphlets into a dwarf's hand to notice him. Draco managed to nudge right up behind her, inside her personal bubble, her frizzy curls tickling his nose when he said, "Some things never change, eh, Granger?"

She jumped, which was to be expected, but what he _didn't_ expect was her to be so quick about spinning around, wand drawn and a battle-ready glare set across her face. It startled him so much that he stumbled back, the back of his legs hitting the fountain's edge. He knew it -could feel his legs give out from under him before he could counteract -and he prepared himself as he fell backward into the fountain, splashing water over the edge as a freezing wave washed over his face and distorted his hair. "Fuck!"

"Oh! Oh my - terribly sorry - here, let me help you-" Granger rushed to the fountain, offering out her hand -until she saw who she'd managed to unsettle. Her almond colored eyes set wide in surprise, but she retracted her hand immediately, as if it might be hexed off. "Malfoy? Is that you?"

He wasn't sure which was worse -the humiliation of the entire surrounding Hogsmeade staring at him, or the fact he had inhaled a large amount of water up his nose, and now it burned like an acidic potion. His silver-flecked eyes flickered up to her, and he said, in his most disarming drawl, "Ob-vi-ous-ly."

He expected her to offer out her hand again or apologize for scaring him out of his wits, but instead she straightened her posture and said, "What were you thinking, sneaking up on me like that?"

"What do I think _I_ was doing?" he sneered, "Is that how you greet every person who happens to flank you from behind at a moment's notice?"

"It is when they sneak up on me."

"I wasn't sneaking. I was simply-"

FLASH! CLICK! POOF!

Draco rolled his eyes, meandering to the edge of the fountain just in time to connect eyes with an annoying newspaper photographer. He curled his fingers over the fountain's edge and scooted himself over it so that he sat on the brick seating, searching for his wand. "Brilliant. Two days back, and already I've made the papers." He watched the photographer scurry on his daily business, no doubt to make some outlandish story up, refusing to look at the facts.

"Are you alright?" Granger had the nerve to ask when he looked behind him to find his wand floating on the surface of the water. "Here, let me help."

"Haven't you done enough?" he snapped, but it was too late. She'd already _accio_ 'd his wand, cast a drying charm, along with a heating charm, and then handed his wand back to him. He raised a cautious eyebrow while taking it before saying, "Er… thanks."

"Not a problem." To his surprise, Granger smiled warmly. Almost… fondly. "I am sorry, you know. It's just… sneaking up on me… I… I don't do well with that."

"For the last time, I wasn't sneaking," he insisted, pocketing his wand. "I was…" he thought up a lie quickly, "-coming to infer about one of your pamphlets."

"Really?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Really," he challenged.

"Alright, then." She thrust her hand out, offering him one of the folded parchments. "We're having a mandatory meeting this Sunday evening. Address is on the bottom. If you attend, please bring a juice or snack."

And so, Draco took the pamphlet, as to not be caught in his own lie, and nodded once in confirmation. As if he'd _actually_ show up, he thought. That was, until Granger's smile widened to an all out satisfied grin, setting Draco's insides on fire like she was the bloody sun. She looked so warm and inviting in the moment, and… happy. He'd managed, with such a simple promise, to make someone _happy_. Even if it was Granger…

"Juice or a snack… noted." He tucked the pamphlet into his pocket and turned away, leaving Granger behind. His world felt cold and dreary without her smile there to warm it up. He vowed by this time on Sunday, he would feel her warmth again.

* * *

**First Impressions:**

"You showed up!" Granger greeted him as she swung open the door, a clipboard in her hand and a button on her shirt that read 'S.P.E.W.' in gaudy red lettering. Draco stood awkwardly on the bottom step, still dressed in his finer set of robes from dinner with his parents. He cleared his throat, which closed up at the sight of her dressed in muggle street clothing with bare feet.

"You look surprised," he managed, embarrassed to be put on the spotlight. He, quickly, thrust out his hand from behind his back and offered out a bag marked 'Honeydukes' on the side.

Granger, to his delight, grinned as she took the bag and admitted, "Well, just a little bit. After all, it is… you."

"You sure know how to make a guest feel welcome," he mused, smirking as his confidence grew, and he managed to slide past her through the door into a quaint looking living room with bits of mismatched furniture. On the coffee table was a meat and cheese tray, along with assortments of various juices in plastic bottles. Muggles and their oddities… It then dawned on him, "No one else is here."

"Not yet," said Granger, shutting the door. "You're actually thirty minutes early."

"I'm fifteen minutes late."

"Yes, well…" she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and crossed the living room to the attached kitchen, making a motion for Draco to follow with a wave of her hand. He did, curious at the various metal, plastic, and wooden objects around atop the counters. He recognized one as a 'microwave' from his mandatory muggle studies class in his higher education abroad, and the giant one the size of a bodybuilder was called a 'fridge'. He said as much, pointing to each muggle object and identifying it proudly. Once again, he managed to make the witch smile with his knowledge, and a pang of pride swelled within him. That was, until he got to a short, fat box under the counter with an array of buttons on its face.

"Dishwasher," Granger explained, opening it up to reveal a large compartment with racks to, presumably, set dishes into. "I'm impressed you knew so many muggle objects."

"Are you?" he smirked, leaning forward to peer into the container. "Well, that's a first. Hermione Granger: impressed by Draco Malfoy."

"Don't get cocky," she chided, setting her hands on her hips.

"So…" he leaned up straight and tucked his hands behind his back. "Why do you set your events forty-five minutes later than your event time?"

"Because Harry and Ron can never show up on time."

Bollocks. Draco knew there had to be a catch to this. "Weasley and Potter are part of your little… Spew?"

"S.P.E.W." she corrected, "And… well, no. But they come for the free food."

"Surprise, surprise. Anyone else joining us this evening?"

"Well, there's Luna Lovegood," she replied, to which Draco gave a tiny scoff, "Dean Thomas and his boyfriend, Seamus-"

"Boyfriend?" Draco cleared his throat. "That… explains a lot."

"Does it?"

"Yes. When we were in school, Thomas used to… wink at me."

Granger hummed quietly to herself as she retrieved a bowl from a cupboard and began sifting the sweets Draco had brought into it. She didn't comment on Draco's uncomfortable confession, instead only saying, "So, you're interested in House Elf Liberation, are you?"

Shit. He'd hoped it wouldn't come to this. He'd taken the rest of the week to realize the only reason he even considered coming to this event, despite his growing anxiety, was to see her again. He couldn't explain it -it was as if something fractured in him had healed when he made her smile earlier in the week, and he wanted to believe it was because of _him_ and _not_ the fact he was covered head to toe in fountain water.

"Er… yeah. Of course," he lied. "House elves and their… rights… and whatnot…"

Granger pulled a nearby stool up to the counter, sat down, and began to sift through the various sweets in the bowl. "Why are you _really_ here, Malfoy?"

"Pardon?"

"Please. You and I both know you couldn't give two figs less about the rights of magical creatures." She plucked out a chocolate frog, ripped open the cardboard, and quickly bit the head off the frog to keep the magic from bringing it to 'life.' Next, she retrieved the card inside and smirked mischievously at it. "Oh, look. It's me. Do you want it?" She offered it out to him. "I could sign it for you."

"Since when did your ego match the size of your hair?"

She gave a little shrug, giggling. "I'm only teasing. No one really wants my card. It's Harry they're after…" she added as an afterthought, "It is bewildering to know your face is a prize in a sweet shop, though…"

"Poor Granger," Draco sneered in a dull tone, prying the card out of her hand to look it over. The Granger on the card smiled wistfully back at him, unaware. "Must be _so_ difficult to be a national treasure."

Realizing her mistake, Granger reached over the table and overlapped her hand on his. Draco's insides froze, and he tilted his eyes up to her, feeling icy and warm all at once. "I'm sorry," she said, "Sometimes, I forget there are others on the opposite side of the ballpark."

"Ballpark?"

"Quidditch pitch."

"Ah." He nodded, falling silent again. The doorbell ring, much to his relief, and Granger excused herself to answer it. Draco decided, in that moment, he rather enjoyed conversations with Hermione Granger. Oh, what a different world he lived in now. He reached for an every flavored bean pack in the bowl as he watched, on schedule, as Loony Lovegood arrived, dressed in a red sash across her summer dress (which made no sense at all, considering it was Autumn); there were butterfly clips in her hair that flapped their wings every time she turned her head, and her lips were a brilliant shade of purple. All in all, she confused the Hell out of Draco, and Granger didn't look much better off.

"Luna! Glad you could make it. Can I take your… um, sash?"

"Oh, no thank you," Loony said, giving a toothy smile, "It's to keep the liver-yips from burrowing in my ear. They hate the color red, you know."

"Liver-what?" Draco couldn't help but ask, exchanging baffled glances with the pretty- no, _no_! _Plain_ Granger across from him as the women approached the kitchen counter. Merlin's beard, had he not been shagged just last week by a gorgeous Ukranian witch, he would have chalked it up to sexual drive, but as it were… How could someone so ordinary be so intriguing?

"Liver-yips," answered the blonde witch, reaching into the bowl of candy to pluck out a toffee. "My father and I have been working on getting them recognized by the Ministry, but so far every letter we've sent for an audience with the Minister has been met with rejection. I suspect wrackspurts are to blame."

"Or, simply the Minister has more pressing matters on his hands rather than to talk about a species with absolutely no scientific evidence to back up their existence…" Granger trailed off, stalking over to the pantry and removing a large bottle of red wine. "Malfoy, conjure us up some glasses, would you?"

"You don't own any?" Draco grumbled.

"I meant, transfigure up some of mine into proper glasses. If I remember correctly, you were quite handy in Transfiguration…"

"It's good to see you, Draco," said Luna, as if they were old chums and not childhood acquaintances that hardly had spoken a word to each other for seven years of their life. Draco, who couldn't think of a good comeback, retreated over to the cupboards and ransacked them until he found three typical table glasses. There, he placed them on the counter and morphed them into three, elegant wine glasses with deep bulbs and long stems.

"Wine at a mandatory meeting for house elf liberation… who knew Hermione Granger was a lush?" he teased, watching her pour them all a glass.

"Not a lush," she replied, "I simply know when the occasion calls for a bit of liquid courage, and seeing us all the same room together again counts as one of those times." Granger sipped idly from her glass, glancing between the two.

"Are you two dating?" asked Luna out of the blue, causing Granger to choke on her wine as Draco, who already had a mouthful in tow, accidentally spat it back out -spraying it all over Granger's shirt. And the countertop. "Shit… sorry, Granger."

"It's alright," she said, waving her hand dismissively, even though her pretty pink shirt was now stained in burgundy. "I… um… I'll just…" she moved for her wand, but Draco was embarrassed, and an embarrassed Malfoy did not a happy camper make. He moved to wave his wand and clean up the mess, but she stopped him, putting her hand on his wand. "Really, Malfoy. I can do it myself."

Stubborn Granger. "It's my mess."

"And it's my chest!"

"And her wine!" Luna piped in, excited to be a part of the conversation.

"Quit being stubborn and let me clean you up." He, quickly, reached for her wand at its holster and waved it in front of her in triumph. Granger rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

"I'll just go change."

"If you let it set, it'll stain."

"Sounds like you just want to get me out of my shirt."

If that wasn't humiliating enough, the door then swung open, revealing Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who only caught the last bit of the conversation and raised their eyebrows in inquisitive gestures.

"Someone wants Hermione out of her shirt?" smirked Dean as he uncurled his scarf from around his neck. His eyes set on the blond man in the kitchen, and he grinned wider. "How about the pair of you take your shirts off and give us a show?"

"Dean!" Granger shouted, chucking a chocolate frog from the bowl at him. Dean Thomas all out laughed at the paling blond prat in Hermione's kitchen and kissed Seamus on the cheek.

"Only joking, Hermione. You know I only have eyes for one man."

"Don't lie to the girl, now," Seamus rolled his eyes, "You make goo-goo eyes at every man and woman you can, whether they look back or not."

"Okay, so my heart heart is only for one guy. My eyes… they're free thinkers. What am I supposed to do? Close them every time a pretty witch or wizard walks by?"

"You could always squint," offered Luna, "That way, you only get half the effect."

"This isn't getting us anywhere," sighed Granger, pointing an accusing finger at Draco. "Give me my wand, Malfoy."

Draco stuck his nose in the air like a child. "No." Now, he knew, he was just being stubborn. But weren't all Malfoys, when push came to shove?

"Fine." She rolled her eyes. "Luna, keep an eye out for Dean, would you?"

It was then Draco realized she planned to leave him alone with the three. Out of pure unwilling to be around the trio in Hermione's living space, Draco waited until she was down the hall before excusing himself to the 'bathroom' and following swiftly behind her. He noticed the bedroom door at the back of the hall had been left partially open, which one could only assume meant someone was decent on the other side.

Oh, how wrong Draco Malfoy was.

"Granger?" he asked, knocking lightly on the door before prying it open. What he found was something he would never forget.

Hermione Granger stood in the doorway of her connected bathroom, just having peeled off the soaked shirt from over her head. Draco never knew a back could look so alluring; the way it arched as she gave a light stretch and reached back for her brassiere made his insides warm again, but in an entirely different way. She had a sensational backside as well, he noted as he stared down at her covered buttocks. Two round mounds of cheeks begging to be swatted by his hand…

" _Malfoy_?"

Shit. He'd been caught. Granger stared, horrified, over her shoulder, arms moving instinctively to cover up her exposed front, though Draco couldn't see it.

"Er…"

" _What_ do you think you're doing?" she snapped, obviously afraid to move to give away more of her captivating body to his gaze. Draco stood awkwardly in the doorway to her bedroom, glancing down at the two wands in his hands.

"I… came to give you your wand back," he lied once again.

Granger snorted indignantly in response. "Thought you'd get a peep while you did?"

"I… no." He pursed his lips as heat flooded his cheeks. "Though… I admit, it was a bonus."

"A _bonus_?" With one arm still covering her breasts, she used the other to reach down, pick up her brassiere, and throw it at Draco in anger only to have him catch it and smirk.

"C's? Are you sure you aren't compensating?"

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

"Have dinner with me." The words tumbled from his mouth quicker than he could retract them.

Granger stared evenly at him, her eyebrows pulling together. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused. -Now, have dinner with me," he offered again.

"I... " she blinked, soaking in his words. Then, she said, in a hushed tone, "Excuse me a moment…" Granger dashed off to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Some moments later, she returned, dressed in a new shirt (and, presumably, a new bra as well) with her arms crossed and expression grim. "Say it again."

"You're excused?"

"No," she shook her head, "the other bit."

"Have dinner with me." He held out her brassiere between them, determination in his eyes.

"Why should I?" she asked.

Draco rolled his eyes, tossing the bra at her. As it landed on her head, he set her wand on the nightstand next to her bed and said, "I rather enjoy making you smile."

Granger lifted the bra out of her face, one of the cups still resting atop her bushy brown curls. "Do you?"

"Well?"

"Alright." She nodded. "Dinner."

"Wonderful." He pulled open the door to her bedroom, saying over his shoulder, "And there's no way you're a C cup." He didn't even mind when her brassiere hit the back of his head again. He only smirked.

* * *

**2 more chapters. Mostly written. Will update very soon.**   
**Leave a thought?**   
**~A.**


	2. Part 2

**I couldn't resist uploading a bit more for this story so soon. I would like to thank StrongHermione, Dramione-Loving-Ravenclaw, I Was BOTWP, and Tilly90 for leaving me some hilarious stories on my facebook page to draw inspiration from. I asked for some date disasters to use in this story, and these ladies did NOT disappoint! I still have one more I'm going to use, but not till the next one... hehe... Couldn't have done it without them! For their sake, I won't say which situation belongs to who, but they know. ;D**

**Light, you haven't read the last bit yet, and I'm going to keep it that way until it's posted. Surprises are best, yes?**   
**~A.**

* * *

**~*~** Nothing in Draco's performance around Hermione Jean Granger would ever flow so fluidly again. **~*~**

**First Date:**

Their first date was a disaster. The reservations Draco had made at Madam Mystiques in Diagon Alley were lost by some bawdy hostess with far too much breast and not enough brain. It didn't help when Draco threw around his family name, as the manager of the establishment was a muggleborn with strong loathing against former Death Eaters. Once Hermione had convinced Draco to 'let it go', she took him to her favorite deli around the corner, where they ate roast beef on rye and toasted butterbeers. Little did Draco know, however, that he was highly allergic to mayonnaise. The food had never come up before in his daily digestion, and for the next hour, he found himself with a nasty case of hives and an irritable bowel that kept him in the bathroom for longer than socially acceptable. Drained, itchy, and dehydrated, he sat defeated on the bench outside the deli, his face red from embarrassment as Granger sat down next to him.

"So much for a romantic evening," he grumbled, shooting back the allergy potion she'd purchased for him while in the loo. He could already feel the effects take hold as his chest became less itchy and considerably less red.

Next to him, he heard her giggle. "You were trying to romance me?"

"I... "

"So this was a date, then?"

"You didn't know?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he shot her a look somewhere between humiliation and disbelief. She held the facade for a moment before laughing some more and patting him on the arm.

"I had an inkling…"

"Yes, well, shot that to bits, didn't I?"

He felt the sweet press of her soft lips against his cheek. "It wasn't all that bad. Honestly, I've had worst first dates."

"Have you?"

"No."

They both laughed before Draco found himself upchucking into the rose bushes next to the bench.

* * *

**First Supply Run:**

The next few dates weren't terrible -until they were. So far, he'd managed to spill hot soup into her lap, trip on the stairs and nearly plant his face directly in her cleavage, and by the third date, he'd torn a hole in his trousers- in the crotch. Nothing a simple hemming charm couldn't fix, but it couldn't take back the humiliating sound of the infamous _RIIIIIIIP_. Somehow, she'd let it slip on the first date that she was scared of flying, to which Draco took it upon himself to get her over the fear. Which would have been all well and fine, except she was fighting him tooth and nail on everything from the safety gear to how to best mount a broom, two months later.

"I know what I'm talking about, Granger," he said stubbornly, "Slytherin seeker, remember?"

"Yes, and Harry was the Gryffindor seeker, and he always mounted the broom _this_ way."

"Are you really going to take flying advice from some novice flyer who happened to be lucky when he first picked up a broom? Or are you going to listen to someone who's been trained how to properly fly since he was five?"

"I'd just assume take the advice from someone who's won a few tournaments."

Draco snarled under his breath, marched right up behind her, and placed his hand over hers, directing it to its proper place on the broomstick. A sudden rush of adrenaline kicked in his veins when he realized just how close he was to her and how heavenly her hair smelled, like apples and vanilla. It took everything in him to concentrate and steady himself, pressing himself just a tad too close to be considered 'proper' -not that he cared, really. Granger's body heat radiated off her back in waves, tickling his chest and tightening his trousers in the process-

"Damn it," he heard her mutter.

"Hmm? Something wrong?"

"It's… well, I… I, um," she turned around, nearly toppling over her own broom so that Draco caught her around the middle and cradled her in a seductive dip. His nose rested against hers, and he was thought about going in for the kill when she said, "I've started."

"Started?" he raised an eyebrow, utterly confused. "You haven't even kicked off of the ground."

"No. Not what I - I mean… Aunt Flow has come to town."

"Aunt Flow?" he still didn't get it. "Why do I care what your muggle Aunt does in her spare time?"

"No. Draco -I-"

"-You called me Draco."

A blush crawled up her cheeks. "Yes. I did."

"I like it."

She smiled. "Great. -Now, as I was saying, I've started my time of the month- ahh!"

Draco nearly dropped her, catching himself at the last moment. "T-Time of the month?"

"My period, Draco. Yes."

This time, he didn't much like the sound of his own name. Not when it was in the same sentence with the word 'period.'

"OH." He thought about what to say. "I… congratulations?"

Granger rolled her eyes, untucking herself from his arms. "I'd love to celebrate another successful ovulation cycle, but, unfortunately, I didn't come prepared."

"Prepared?" Again, Draco didn't know what she was talking about. "It's not like you're off to duel or anything."

"Women need _provisions_ , Draco. You know… pads. Tampons."

"Oh." This time, he paled. "I.. er… couldn't you just… conjure some up, or something?"

"It doesn't exactly work that way -not like the real thing."

"So… we need to get you… provisions…" he offered, his voice cracking an octave. It was the right thing to say, because her eyes lit up like fireflies, and she relaxed in posture.

"Yes."

"Where… um… would we do that, exactly?"

"Did your mother never teach you any of this?"

"Merlin's testicles, no!" he nearly laughed. "That sort of stuff -it isn't talked about in pureblood families."

"Oh." She shrugged. "It's normal amongst muggleborn families. And muggles."

"Is it normal to talk about it with dates?"

"No." Granger giggled nervously. "No, it isn't."

And even though he felt completely out of his element, squeamish and abandon of knowledge, he managed a smirk and draped his arm around her shoulder. "What's the protocol for boyfriends, then?"

"We haven't even kissed ye-" Hermione was shut up by a firm set of lips on hers, rendering her speechless.

* * *

**First Love:**

"Stop fiddling with your tie. You look handsome."

"Of course I do," he replied haughtily, "I'm a Malfoy, after all." Even still, he couldn't stop the fluster of anxiousness in his stomach as they approached the front door of a quaint, country home. Knock, knock, knock. What would Hermione's parents be like?

The door opened. "Hermione! Oh, Gerald, dear! Hermione's here!" A woman stood in the doorway, resembling an older, refined version of Hermione. _Must be Helen, the mother_. The man who came to stand at her side was tall, balding, and somewhat formidable in his khakis and sweater vest.

"This him?" he asked gruffly, eyeing Draco up and down.

"Daddy," Hermione scolded, "be nice."

"Draco!" Draco announced at once, jutting his hand out for them to shake. "I'm -er -you're… Draco Malfoy."

" _I'm_ Draco Malfoy?" Gerald raised an eyebrow.

"No. I mean… I am. Um…" Draco waited for someone to take his hand, and, eventually, Hermione did, setting it down at his side again. Panic struck him like a lightning bolt, and he cleared his throat, looking for a topic of choice. He focused on the beautiful set of pearls around Helen's throat and put on his most soothing voice (which still shook), "Lovely pearl necklace, Missus Granger."

"Oh, thank you, dear. Gerald gave me it for our tenth wedding anniversary. Such a kind man, this Gerald." She patted her husband on the cheek, but looking at him, Draco couldn't see what on Earth she was talking about.

"Maybe I'll give Hermione a pearl necklace one day," he offered, trying to sound romantic, but all it got was a red-faced Gerald yelling at him about watching his perverted little mind and chasing him around the lawn.

It wasn't until later Draco realized there was a second meaning to 'pearl necklace', and it wasn't nearly as romantic. (Though, it did sound fun.)

***(*)***

"Your father is a complete sod," he said later, setting down at the edge of her bed in her childhood bedroom, holding a bag of frozen peas to his eye -not because Mister Granger had managed to hit him in his fury, but because Draco had accidentally ran into a branch in the process of running away. After Hermione had fixed the situation, explaining Draco's upbringing and how he wouldn't know he was being cheeky, Gerald had calmed down enough for Helen to offer Draco something frozen to take the swelling down. Hermione managed to usher them away into her old bedroom for some privacy, while Gerald took to the study to read and to ruminate.

"My father's simply… protective."

"Barbaric, more like."

"Oh, come now. Lean back." Hermione pushed him to lean back against the pillows, climbing on top of him. Draco didn't mind the way she straddled his hips.

"Hermione, your parents are right outside…"

"Get your mind out of the gutter. I'm just checking your eye." She pried the frozen pea bag away from his face and looked him over. "Swelling's gone down. I could do a spell if you'd-" she stopped when his hand curled around her bum, giving it a light squeeze. "-like."

"Healer Granger, come to take care of me…" Draco licked his lower lip, taking the pea bag out of her hands and tossing it to the floor. "I love it." With a soft hand, he traced down her cheek with his palm, loving the way she leaned into his touch. Nervousness bloomed inside of him, and he gulped, wondering if this would be the right time to say it. "Hermione… I-"

The bed gave a large groan, and, without notice, caved in the middle and split in two, sending Draco, Hermione, and the mattress down to the floor. BOOM! CRASH! The noise was monumental and destructive.

To make matters worse, Helen and Gerald came bursting in the door, fearing for their daughter's life only to find the bed broken and her sprawled on top of her boyfriend in the most compromising of positions.

"I… this isn't what it looks like-" Draco began, staring at the wrathful eyes of Gerald Granger. "The bed just… broke. We weren't -Merlin, don't give me that look!"

"I want him out of my house -yesterday!" and with that, Gerald tore out of the room, his consoling wife on his heels.

"Fuck…"

"Don't worry about him," Hermione said, as if the bed breaking was no big deal, "I'll have a word with him."

"A word? Looks like I'll need to brew myself an entire cauldron of liquid luck just to make it out of the front door in one piece."

"Why do you care so much what my father thinks?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. "This isn't the Draco I know."

"Yes, well," he grumbled, "the Draco you knew wasn't in love before."

Hermione shifted on his lap, stoic. "What?"

"Are you hard of hearing, too? I said I love you, you insufferable-" but he didn't get to finish the sentence because Hermione had tackled him against the broken bed in a flurry of unbridled kisses.

* * *

**First Rate Klutz:**

"Draco, hurry up! We're going to be late for the play!"

"Bollocks the play. If I wanted to watch a bunch of dramatic wizards and witches perform, I'd sit through one of my family reunions."

"Oh, come on," Hermione begged, bouncing up and down on her heels. "It'll be fun!"

"Fun. Do you realize, every time we go out, bad things happen?"

"That isn't true."

Draco took a seat in the armchair behind him, crossing his arms. "I'll have you know, it's so accurate it hurts. -my arse, my stomach, my eye, your bed…" he gave a timid sigh and put his face in his hands. "It's like anything that can go wrong, will."

"Murphy's Law."

"Who?"

"It's a muggle phrase. No one knows who actually coined it, but there is speculation-"

"-Get to the point, Hermione."

"Murphy's Law states that anything that could happen will probably, and most certainly, happen at one point or another. But it really is a confirmation bias, simply because the only reason anyone takes notice of something and uses Murphy's law is when it actually goes wrong."

"You've lost me."

"Take… flying a broomstick, for example. Hundreds of people do it all around the world at once, but you'd only notice it as a problem if it came and smacked you in the face."

"Well, of course. Anyone would."

"So you'd blame the broomstick flyer, even though, to the broomstick flyer, you yourself are the anomaly in his day."

"What's your point?"

"My point is, it's all about perspective. If you look for the bad, of course, it will show up." She extended her hand out to him. "Now, come. I wish to be taken to the play."

"Alright," he said, playfully grabbing her and pulling her to him. Unfortunately, the pull was too strong, and as she crashed into him, sending them both tumbling back, along with the chair. Draco tried grabbing Hermione around the waist, but it didn't stop her cheek, shoulder, and nose from scraping along the carpet as the back of the chair hit the floor with a graceless _clack!_

"Owwwww…"

"Shit, Hermione, are you alright?"

When Hermione leaned up, she had rug burns where her skin came into contact with the carpet. There were tears in her eyes, but she played it off quickly, sighing, "It's alright. That's what I get for feeling pretty tonight." She touched the tip of her nose and winced. "Happen to have any Dittany lying around?"

Draco gulped. "Erm, I used the last of it this weekend when I skinned my elbow roleplaying with you and fell off the bed."

"Lovely." Hermione pried herself up to stand, wiping away tears of, no doubt, pain. "I have some pain numbing salve in my bag… I'll just go and fetch it."

"Hermione-" Draco started, scrambling up to stand as well to catch her hand before she got too far away, "let's skip the play, yeah?"

"I'll be damned if we're skipping it."

"But your face-

"What's wrong with my face!?"

They both knew the answer to the question, but Draco was a smart enough man to know better than to answer truthfully. He brought her knuckles up to his lips and kissed. "You look stunning."

"Damn right I do. Besides, looks aren't everything…"

"But you _are_ stunning," he said, " _scrapes_ or _no_ scrapes."

To his relief, she grinned at him, blushing like a strawberry and lighting him up like the sun she was. It was then he realized how it wasn't just him she lit up, but his world as well. No matter any of the bad that happened, she still managed to smile.

Although the smile was short lived when they arrived outside of the theater for Hermione to be teased about her and Draco getting too rowdy during their sexual escapades -eventually, they both stopped trying to convince the others what actually happened and went with it. It sounded better than what happened in reality anyway.

* * *

**One more chapter to go!**   
**Lots of love**

**~A.**


	3. Chapter 3

**LightofEvolution, I hope you love this bit. I hope I don't make you cry, or if I do, it's in a good way.**

**Thank you Sunful824 for dropping everything to proof this fic! Good thing, too, because a sentence went missing!**

**This is the final installment.I hope everyone loves. 3**   
**~A.**

* * *

Three years felt like the blink of an eye to Draco Malfoy. In that time, he and Hermione managed to keep their relationship intact, despite the odds. In three years, there had been so much to go wrong.

First, there was the incident with Hermione coming home with him for Christmas. That shitstorm landed the pair in a heated dispute with Draco's father, Lucius, who wanted nothing more than to make degrading comments about Hermione's lineage and then pretend she was the help. Hermione always told him to look for the silver linings, and it came when his mother, Narcissa, gave Hermione a hand me down set of pearls, to which Draco couldn't help but make a snarky quip about how her father would appreciate them very much.

Then, there was their second anniversary, where Blaise and Theo had gotten into a drunken bar brawl with Potter and Weasley over Quidditch teams. And when they should have been celebrating the 'Dramione' couple (Ginny Weasley coined the phrase), the four ended up forcing the entire group to be kicked out of club 'Bond' into sleeting rain. Again, Draco searched for the silver lining and found it in watching Weasley have his arse handed to him by Blaise, followed by hot chocolate at Luna Lovegood's, and ending with a sexual nightcap with his girlfriend.

Then, of course, who could forget the awkward moment at Hermione's grandmother's funeral where Draco accidentally tripped Hermione in the aisle, and she landed face first into his crotch in the pews.

Today, Draco told himself, would be different. _This_ day, he took extreme precautions to prevent failure of any sort. No silver linings would be needed, thank you very much.

He bribed Potter and Weasley with tickets to the see the Bulgarians battle the Irish on the Quidditch pitch (with VIP passes to meet both teams before the match). They wouldn't be barging their noses in on this most auspicious of days. Blaise was out of town with Looney (somehow, they'd managed to hit it off, though Draco didn't understand what they saw in each other), and Theo was in Turkey on some dark artifacts expedition.

Thomas and Finnegan were on their honeymoon, so no interruptions from them. Weasley's little sister was on tour with the Harpies… Even the rest of the Weasley clan had 'mysteriously' won a vacation to Ireland, free of charge (with some strings pulled from the Ministry)... Draco struggled to remember if anyone else would make his 'do-not-fucking-disturb-us' list as he buttoned a pair of diamond cufflinks to his dress-shirt and ran a nervous hand through his hair for the umpteenth time.

He checked his teeth (no food), his wallet (plenty of currency), his socks (matching), and then his breath (minty fresh.) No, Murphy's Law wouldn't get the better of him this time. He double laced his laces, checked for any blemishes on his face, and -

"Holy Hell, is that the time?"

As Draco bolted down the stairs, he felt his mother's careful stare on him. "Off in such a hurry, Draco, dear?"

Draco stopped at a dead halt on the last step, swaying slightly. "Mother! I… what I mean to say is, you and Father are back from Italy?"

"Early, yes." She eyed his attire curiously and folded her hands in front of her. "It looks like you have big plans lined up." Draco opened his mouth to speak, but she needed only to shake her head once to stifle his attempts. His mouth found itself wired shut as she approached him and straightened his collar. "You look handsome."

"Thank you," he said, though distracted like a toddler would be when being denied the playground and told to put on a coat first. "I'm running late-"

"-Show it to me," Narcissa said, calm and firm at the same time. Her eyes flared seriousness.

"I… I don't know what you-"

But Narcissa's hand was quick in his pocket, and she pulled out a small box, green velvet for show. Arching a cool eyebrow (no doubt where Draco inherited the manner from), she popped open the lid and stared down at the glistening jewel within, set on a white gold band. The ruby sparkled in the light, drawing Draco's attention.

"A fine ring," she said, smiling. "Red, like her house?"

"It happens to be her favorite color, actually…"

Narcissa shut the box and slipped it back inside his pocket. "You're sure?"

Draco nodded with a strict bow. "I've never been more sure about anything."

His mother smiled humbly and stepped aside. "Who am I to stand in the way of someone so sure?"

"Cissy!" Lucius Malfoy drawled from down the hall. "Have you seen my slippers? The blasted house elves can't find them and-"

"-I'll be there in a moment, dear!" she called back over her shoulder. Then she winked to Draco and said in a hushed tone, "Never you mind him. I'll keep him distracted. You go on. Off you pop."

In a rush, Draco kissed his mother on the cheek and scampered off down the hall, away from his father's voice and toward the floo in the den.

When he arrived inside Hermione's flat, Murphy's Law was already waiting for him in the form of one Teddy Lupin, eight-years-old with a sour expression on his face as he lay sprawled along the sofa reading a book. His hair was a wild shade of magenta today, matching Hermione's cheeks as she witnessed Draco arrive through the hearth.

"Hello!" she exclaimed, too chipper to be sincere.

"Fuck." Draco hadn't meant to say it out loud, but there it was, plain as day.

Teddy turned his eyes on his second cousin and said in a perfect imitation of Andromeda, "Foul words ought not to be spoken in the presence of minors."

"Oh, snuff your gob," Draco rolled his eyes while simultaneously turning toward his girlfriend. His voice was foreboding and irritated as he drawled, "Hermione… what is he doing here?"

Hermione rubbed her hands together, again trying to be light hearted as she replied, "Well, Andromeda contacted me only an hour ago. Apparently, her best friend Tessy was admitted to St. Mungo's urgent care wing this morning, and what with Harry and Ginny out of town, and Ron gone off with Harry, and the Weasleys winning that vacation, no one could watch Teddy…"

"You couldn't have gone with her?" Draco snarled.

Teddy looked up from his book, smug. "Didn't want to."

"Hermione…" he felt his teeth grit together, his patience nonexistent.

"I thought maybe we could all go out to dinner together?" she suggested. "Or, we could put it off for another night?" A hopeful smile breached her face.

Draco, despite planning over every single detail, had been defeated by none other than a plucky eight-year-old with a habit for changing hair color. The anger inside of him subsided as soon as Hermione took his hand and gave it a light squeeze.

"Please?" she said. "Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad," he lied, "I'm just… this was sort of a special night, you know."

"I'd hardly consider dressing up to get randy later on something we couldn't reschedule," she muttered under her breath, quiet enough for Teddy to pretend not to hear.

"Hermione," her name was becoming a mantra now, "That isn't it at all… I… I just…" he patted the box inside his pocket, glared over at Teddy, and growled, "You. Here." He pointed to the spot next to him. "Right now."

"Me?" Teddy asked in that arrogant-child tone.

"No. The Queen. Yes you! Up on your feet."

With a groan and a roll, Teddy hopped off the couch and shuffled over to stand next to Draco. "What?"

Draco thought about his actions, how they might have extreme implications, but he no longer wished to wait nor wanted to give Murphy's Law another chance at success. He'd make the best of it, damn it all. With a forceful shove, he reached inside his pocket, produced the box, and shoved it in Teddy's hand. "Give this to Hermione."

Teddy raised one eyebrow in a 'seriously dude?' sort of way, but shrugged and offered out the box to Hermione, who looked at him with curiosity until her eyes set on the box. Then, she stood stalk-still. "Draco?"

"Now tell the bloody witch I hadn't planned on the randy business until I presented her with this."

Teddy raised both eyebrows now. "I'm not telling Miss Hermione that!"

"Tell her," Draco continued, meeting Hermione's in-shock stare, "I was the one to send Potter and Weasley away, to put the Weasleys in a different country, to make sure the Harpies would play this evening, _and_ reserved the most expensive booth in the Singing Serpent, all so I could give her this _damned box_."

Teddy looked between the two. "Should I be writing this down?" He then paused. "Hey, _you're_ the reason I'm not hanging out with the Potters tonight?"

Hermione's eyes were wet with tears. "Draco…"

"Tell her to open the box," Draco said, his eyes never leaving Hermione's.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm no longer needed here?" Teddy grumbled, pushing the box into Hermione's hand. "Here, Miss Hermione. I'm going to go play video games in your room. Cool?"

"C-Cool," she said airily, and the boy eagerly bolted out of the room and down the hall, leaving the two of them alone. Draco's heart was racing, but he refused to let it keep him from the one thing he wanted. With precise movements, he kneeled down in front of her, overlapped her hands with his, and pried open the box. He broke his gaze from her but a second to pluck the ring from the box and perch it at the end of her left ring-finger.

"I had a speech prepared," he muttered, "Completely forgotten it now."

"That's alright," she laughed, in a daze.

"Would you… do you want to?"

She reached up with her free hand and swiped away at her tears, sniffling into her sleeve. "Ask me properly, now."

Draco rolled his eyes, but his lips pulled back in a confident smirk. "Hermione Granger, would you marry me and get it over with?"

Hermione all-out let tears flow down her cheeks, nodding as she struggled to reply, "Y-yes… Yes, I'd love to-" Draco slipped the ring onto her finger without hesitation and stood immediately, pulling her into a sizzling kiss to hide the fact his whole body shook from adrenaline.

When he pulled away from the kiss he said, "Yes?"

"Yes," she nodded again. "A thousand times, yes."

Draco guided her over to the sofa, and both of them sat down, a puddle of raw emotions. Silently, he wove her hand in his, the newly adorned ring glimmering off the fireplace lighting. Content, Draco brought the hand up to his lips to kiss it, and then smiled lovingly at his bride-to-be. "Fuck Murphy's Law."

Hermione replied back by attacking his lips with a flourish of kisses.

* * *

Fuck Murphy's Law, indeed.

The pair stared down at the glimmering silver potion on the table as Draco watched his wife's heart break. Surrounding the cauldron were three different muggle pregnancy tests, and all of them read negative.

"Hermione…"

"That's it," she whispered, resting her hand over her mouth in defeated shock. "We've tried everything."

"So we get another Healer's opinion. This can't be-"

"-This is _it_ ," she snapped forcefully, "We've tried every conception spell, every Healer procedure, muggle in vitro, hormones… it's over." She choked back a cry and turned away from the table. "We just have to face facts. We can't… we can't have children."

Draco leaned against the table for support, shaking it and the items on top. Damn it all. Things had gone too perfect, hadn't they? Too perfect these last five years…

"I'm not giving up," he said. "And neither should you."

Still, Hermione didn't look at him as she walked to the door and whispered, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, watching her leave.

In the silence of the room, Draco collapsed to the floor and sat in the fetal position, lost in thought. He knew Hermione wanted children. He knew it was because of him he wasn't able to make her dream a reality. Sperm counts and all that nonsense… his heart broke, but more so it broke because hers broke in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to make her happy, but Murphy's Law reigned supreme.

So Draco thought. And he thought, and he thought, and he thought. And, three months later, he came up with his best plan ever.

* * *

He sat the papers down in front of her as he would on any normal morning as she sipped her coffee and listened to the radio. Normally, it was a fresh edition of the Daily, but today held a picture of a little girl with bright brown eyes and rosy cheeks. She wasn't even a year old yet.

Hermione looked down at the photograph on the table, puzzled. "What's this?"

Draco gave his best smirk, taking a seat next to his wife at the table and drawing her chair closer to his. "This is our silver lining."

Hermione blinked at him before staring down at the picture, the coggs in her brain turning. It didn't take her long to catch his meaning. "You don't mean…"

"We've been approved," he said, draping an arm around her shoulders. "That is… if you want to."

"Adopt, you mean."

"Yes, Hermione," he rolled his eyes, a chuckle in his voice. "Adopt."

Her fingers slid down the moving photograph, over the girl's soft curls. "She's beautiful. -What's her name?"

"Tell me if you want this, first," he said, stoic. He held his breath, awaiting her answer.

Hermione nodded, breaking out into a smile. "Very much."

"Well then," he felt the tightness in his chest release, and he kissed her cheek. "You're going to get a kick out of her name. -Hermione, meet Murphy."

Her mouth gaped in surprise. "You're joking."

"Nope."

After a subtle pause, they broke out into laughter.

It took finishing their coffee to finally stifle the humor, and they sat pensively, grinning at the photo.

"When could we get her?"

"By the end of the month, if we sign the paperwork today."

His wife's eyes danced with delight. "She's gorgeous."

"Just like her mother," Draco said, nudging her playfully in the arm.

"She looks stubborn, like her father."

"Some would call it a gift," he smirked.

Murphy's Law, indeed.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone who has read (and reviewed) -feel free to do so one last time!**   
**With love,**   
**A.**


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